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Selected Bibliography of the Eleusinian Mysteries of Ancient Greece

by Fred Adams, published in Feraferia's Korythalia, Vol. 2, Number 1, 1970

We have completed our Purifications of the Lesser Mysteries. We bathed, danced, sang and prayed at Agrai on the sacred river Ilissos. All of our spiritual sponsors are members of the two venerable priestly families of Eleusis, the Eumolpids and the Kerykes. The mystagogues, sponsors of our initiations, instructed us and removed all taint and defilement of blood crime. We underwent these rites in the vernal month of flowers, Anthesteria. Through dream-ringed dances, beautiful, overflowing nymphs bore the Kernoi, panspermatic vessels of seeds and fruits.

Now it is the holy month of Boedromion, the autumnal time of sowing in bright Attica — the moon is hasting to its fullness. Soon in the ensorcelled dark of the closing lunar eye, unknown passages between life and death will light up for us, in Holy Eleusis.

This is the prospect of the greater Mysteries, the Secrets of First and Last. We will witness at the center of the world, Eleusis.

The secrets of First and Last and their hidden clasp are the indefinable prospects of the Greater Mysteries. Here at the center of the Mystai, the initiates will witness in Eleusis the full circle (rather than the straight line) of the Beginning and the End. We will see a new holy event. We ourselves will cover these holies with our own flesh and feed their divine joints and ligaments with our own blood. In this exchange, we will receive into our bodies articulation of the everlasting. But the nature of these fusions is forever mute in the closed lips and lids of mystery.

The Spondophorai are special messengers. They were dispatched to all Greek city States from Eleusis, the sacred sanctuary of the Goddesses and the God. They proclaimed the truce that will last until the fifteenth day of the month following the time of festivities. From all the cities the Eumolpids and the Kerykes priests received tithes and delegations for Demeter the Great Mother, and for Persephone, Her Daughter the Queen of the Dead. Also they have received offerings of perennial sprouts of Life, and Ploutos, Husband to Persephone and Lord of the Dead — who forever mixes and sorts the generations in Earth’s rich seedling hush.

Now it is the first day of that mystery festival which is the greatest of all Greece. Boedromion 15: AGHYRMOS! Yesterday the hiera of Demeter were brought from the Anaktoron in Eleusis to Athens by the majestic priestesses. We assemble before the Archon Basileus, supreme magistrate of the celebrations. He stands with his retinue in the Painted Stoa of our famous civic field, the AGORA. From the Stoa porch in the presence of the Supreme Hierophant of Eleusis and his priestly Torch Bearers, The Archon reads the proclamation (Prophesis) which begins the celebrations. We are admonished only those who are free of the taint of homicide, and who are conversant with the pure language of Hellas may seek the the final initiations.

Our mystagogues examine and instruct us further concerning what the Goddesses expects of her initiates. We wash our hands in lustral basins and enter the Eleusinian where Hiera, the sacred objects rest unseen until the day they return with us to the Telesterion in Eleusis for the secret ceremonies.

“To the sea, oh Mystai!” sings out the thrilling shout! It is the morning of ELASIS! In a wild dusty press of carts and carriages we scramble laughing and jingling to the Pholeron Coast, on to the Isthmus of the Piraeus.

Here the sea waits eternally immaculate to cleanse us of all evil. Bearing squirming squealing little pigs, our noisy joyous drove plunges into the swirling waves to wash away the dirt of arid history and sundry errors. When we return to the city, we sacrifice the little pig. Thus we linked with the fertility festival of Thesmophoria, when women hurl innumerable pigs into the great brush-ringed vulva of the Earth Mother. This, the day following Elasis, is a time of dignified restraint. Each day serves up a select course in this great feast of the Gods and these days must alternate our moods to increase appetite for the mystic entreé. This Day in the Eleusioniam, the Archon Basileus offers up solemn sacrifice to the immortal Mother and Maid on behalf of the women and children of the commonwealth.

The Forth Day of the Greater Mysteries we call Epidauria. It is said that at this time in the Sacred Cycle, the God Asklepios arrived from his therapeutic sanctuary in Epidaurous to be prepared for the Demetrian initiations. We Mystai (who have not yet experienced the Great Mystery) rest in seclusion. Deeply we dive into ourselves and pray the for the dawning of the Dark Moon’s incomparable light. As latecomers, like the God, are prepared, each of us in seclusion receives further instruction from his own spiritual guide and sponsor.

Thus might we sleep soundly because every limb is smoothed out with a marvelously relaxed readiness. The Fifth Day blooms a blithe vibrant sun. This is the day for which we have all waited, men, women and children, free and bound. Pompe!!! The journey to Eleusis from Athens. The distance is almost 14 miles. We will be on the road all day and arrive in precincts of Eleusis under the Hermetic lamp of the Evening Star.

The first pale threads of dawn find us milling excitedly with our sponsors about the Pompeion near the Dipylon Gate. We glitter in festive outfits; we are crowned with mystic myrtle; we bear the Bacchos, branches of myrtle tied at intervals with wool. Some of us carry our supplies and new clothes for the rites of Eleusis in a sack tied at one end of a hefty staff called PHASKALOS. There is a last inspection of our lusty throng before we start. Yes, there is Iacchus in the lead. He is a wooden statue, also crowned with myrtle and he raises his torch. He sits jauntily upon this carriage guided by his priest. Verily, he is as the Morning Star, the spirit of shouting and jubilance that enkindles this brilliant Attic procession. How dearly he resembles the lovely young Lord of the Wild Root, Dionysos.

The roaring, dusty sparkling parade shapes up into six general sections. First there is Iacchus, as we have said. Then comes the Priests and the sacred singers who herald the gorgeous holy Priestesses of Demeter. These dazzling irreproachable priestesses bear in gold gleaming baskets — tied with ribbons (Kistar) — the redoubtable Hiera, the most sacred objects of the Goddesses. These Hiera will transform us, because they have no history; they are before time. Through all time they are outside time. They shall fertilize the eggs of our eyes.

Then follow the officials of our Athenian state, mingling with those of other Greek peoples. We Mystai on foot come next, with our wise sponsors. Following us we hear the rumble of carriages. Upon the Road to Eleusis wheels are not really approved. But when they get older, ladies sometimes lose the felicity of their own feet. Even now they shoot flirtatious glances from behind fluttering shades and this pleases us. But now the bridge over the Hadean mud lakes of the Rheitoi have been narrowed by statute to prevent these fine coaches from traversing the last stretch of the Sacred Way.

Pack animals complete our entourage. Our journey follows The Way through the foothills of Pahnes, milestone by milestone. Here and there groups of us pause to feast and make merry. As the worldly roads become Sacred Way, the milestones become monuments. Each one presents the finest whisper of the wild genius of its own immanent surrounding. At the top of the pass, we tarry at the Sanctuary of Apollo. From here, we drop through mountains which cradle glinting wedges of sea to the shrine of Aphrodite. Then over the hill behind the salt lakes of the Rheitoi and across the bridge to the sea.

The Sacred Way, by Fred Adams

Immediately upon crossing this bridge, we undergo Kroposis. Each of us receives two saffron ribbons of wool to protect us against evil spirits, who are always attracted to every great initiatory event. Perhaps they are our own unpurged dross of fear. One Krope is tied around the right wrist, another around the leg of each Mystai.

Here we may rest and bathe again for the lakes border the sea in the womb-like Bays of Eleusis. Here the incomparable Phrene, model of Praxiteles, removes her cloak before all and dips like an untrammeled Goddess in the salt waters. Spellbound, we rest and prepare our torches for our eventide arrival at Eleusis. At eventide, the walls that divide worlds thin to glistening membranes and may dissolve altogether. This is particularly true of this evening of the holy year, the autumn time of sowing in Attica.

But before we reach our destination, we cross the bridge over the river Kephisos. Here ominous men wait on the sides. Their heads are covered and of dreadful aspect. These are the Gephyrisman of the growing darkness who attack us strangely. They hurl nasty taunts and jocular insults at us as we pass, silent and unresponsive. Chiefly they direct their barbs against the important citizens in our midst.

These murmurs again remind us of the terrors of every Sacred Threshold. And so humbled, the great of this life are protected against the jealousies of the grumbling wraiths. We are all equal in our differences before The Timeless Mother and Maid. Within the regions of the sacred, the profanity of presumption is fatal.

At last, under wavering torch light, we arrive in the outer court of the Eleusinian sanctuary. Playfully, gay Iacchos is received and his mission completed. The incandescent embrace of the Morning and Evening Stars rouses the nuptial beacon of homecoming. This is the sleepless night of continual dancing, singing and feasting. The merry trek has raised our spirits to mighty surcharge for the nightlong revels.

Our overflowing nymphs again bear the keryoki, those panspermatic many mouthed vessels for the earths' various fruits and seeds.

The rhythmic jubilance of the moving maze launches torches amidst shouts and cries into the sparkling swirl of stars. Earthly flame and heavenly blaze become indistinguishable. Our entangling legs turn on the hub that is “the well of the beautiful dance,” where Persephone, the seed-corn maiden and Queen of the Dead disappeared. So turn the stars on the spindle of Polaris. The foaming daughters of the waves and the twinkling sons of the heavens, indeed, Selene, the Moon Herself, join our dance, as the divine Euripides intones. All mixes to midnight and then slowly unwinds to happy exhaustion in the morn’s faint light. We seek the shelter of hostels or the houses and villas of friends. Then, in somber singleness of dream, each of us joins Demeter, the Sorrowing Mother, to resume her search for the Lost Maid.

This day, the 20th of Boedhomie we rest. We ply ourselves in purifications and sacrifices. No food or drink whatsoever passes our lips all this day. Our bodies must be immaculately crystalline on the Telete, or the supreme rite of making perfect which commences tonight. Just as our Mother Demeter fasted and abstained from wine after the abduction of her child, the Kore. Again we entrust ourselves to the instructions of our mystagogoi; deeply we meditate with them on the life of the soul, which nourishes the exhaustible and visible in the inexhaustible and invisible.

Toward evening, our bodies clear and pure like the choppy surfaces of a lake after wind has lifted then dropped its waters. The murky cyclopean fist of our depths relaxes, revealing on its palm the everlasting stairways of heaven. Fiery profiles of root-threaded inferno and swarming celestial bouquet touch in the smoothed lake skin of our fallow bodies. We are ready for the Greater Entry.

We don our new robes. After the night of the Telete they will never be worn again except by our newborn for whom they will serve as swaddling. The Archon Basileus and his retinue sacrifices on behalf of all the people. The Pelanos is offered up. It is a large cake of barley and wheat harvested from the sacred Rharian plain. Then we drink the Kykeon. This is the mystic potion which Demeter broke her fast at Eleusis. It is composed of meal mixed with water and soft mint.

Forthwith we assemble at the outer gates, the Propylea. Again we are screened by the priests. Again our spiritual sponsors establish our fitness for what is to follow. We are admitted into the TEMENOS, the sacred precincts, which are so enclosed with high walls that none may spy upon these procedures. We are instructed not to enter the Telesterion. This building is the place of final revelations. Our names are recorded on wooden tablets for all time as those who with Mother and Maid have partaken of the secret communion of their suffering and joy. Our wreaths of myrtle, emblems of love and death, are replaced by ribboned ones; we are completely consecrated to the Goddesses and the Gods! Our torches are lit.

It grows dark as we approach the steps of a terrace flanking the Sacred Way within these walls. It is as if we pass some terrible proscenium and enter into tragedy which we would rather watch comfortably from without. There is hesitation in our midst. The carefree singing of maidens at play fills our ears. Persephone and her friends gather the nosegays of spring. But in the hollow of that lay lurks a strange guttural rumbling. We crowd closer together as our hearts pound heavily.

The rumbling grows to thunder and drowns out the thin maidenly voices. The wavefront of some titanic force crashes through our poor fluttering garments. From the terrified Persephone one last high squeal streaks miserably up and then dies away to the mechanical squeal of a dog crushed by an oxcart in an alleyway. Giant hoof beats pound our senses away. We are wrenched and roped, like the helplessly writhing maidens down into the terrible pits of our own ancestral souls. What awful brutes crouch there with hovering, hungry hands. Hades, Lord of gluttonous death has raped away the shy tender shoot of life. Like a sprout in an avalanche, it is gone, Kore is gone, we are gone.

Consternation scatters our ranks. One mystai drops his torch. But lovely choruses appear through the sulphurous clouds. Their voices are soothing, their movements mellifluous, and we recover ourselves.

The great voice of the ancient gong wells up, and out of its intersecting bronze rings of echo, emerges the soft, ageless voice of Eumolpus, the Great Singing Swan of the Mysteries. He chants only a few simple words. There is no explanation, no sermon. He assures us somehow that by sweeping away our lovely Maid of all ephemeral tendencies, the irresistible rockbound underworld has unknowingly submitted forever to the metamorphic reign of Her even more irresistible sweetness.

We relax under the soft touch of almost invisible hands and wander about. Now we are effortlessly enchanted by the soft kiss of our torches. From the dissolving caverns of shadow hollowed by our flames, a sobbing swells. The deep throat and bosom of the disconsolate Mother disgorges the anguish of loss. The brute, irrefutable fact of LOSS paralyzes us. In this grip, each of us is lost to all the others. Demeter the primordial Mother will not permit that contact of life with life which gives life, until Her Child is retuned. How great and how just is the resentment of the ruptured Creatrix. But these are the horrible catacombs fertility must unseal to the largesse of rebirth. Now we wander like unstrung macabre puppets entombed in some somnambulist pageant. We move dreadfully from tableau to tableau in forlorn search with The Mother. Her sobbing grows louder, and to escape the unbearable despair, we would rend these poor packages of flesh that wrinkle over our bones.

Then silence. Utter silence. One by one, our torches are extinguished. The shadows wrap each of us in our own funerary bridal veil, and swallow each of us in our own suffocating darkness. We have forgotten that we ever trod the Sacred Way, as carelessly carefree fools. We forget we have passed through the Gates of the Sanctuary and that what has befallen us is divinely instituted mime. Singly and alone each of us is locked in the “atmospheric body” we ourselves have aggregated gesture by gesture. No longer do we think with our brains. We shuffle along without moving. It is a grinding mill we tread and so our steps take us nowhere.

Somewhere in the dark, a hushed excited whisper passes. A truce, an agreement between the Gods and Our Goddess is struck. The Olympians capitulate. Neither can they endure the darkness forever. For only a season each year will Kore remain underground, with the waiting seed corn and the commingling ghosts.

Again the great gong sounds. This time the breaking of sound is so heavy, under its shattering timbre we clap our ears with our hands and throw down our heads. The ravaging cyclone of sound lasts only a moment, but it is an interminable one of bright pain. In its surge scamper the twittering wraiths all about us. They scramble sickeningly over our contracting flesh.

We raise our heads. But dumbly we discern the outlines of a huge black grizzly maw before us. It is the vestibule of a cave. The Ploutonion!!! The entrance to the underworld. Our eyes are assailed by the commotion of mattocks, flails and hoes beating some hardened crust of earth. Slowly a luminous mass rises from beneath the threshold of the Ploutonion. The phosphorescent figure of a woman condenses the glow. Her face is a livid mask of decay, the visage of the Gorgon, to look upon which spells death. We drop back in horrorified confusion.

But as She steps upon the plinth, the wormy shell falls from Her face and reveals the lovely contour of the Holy Maiden, coronated Queen of the Two Ways. Our flesh is vindicated. She is the “Atmospheric Body” of all our souls, fused and released by the rite.

Our torches are relit as the Kore rises and approaches us. We form a wide circle about Persephone Anados who has married death into service of life. Through our midst the voluminous form of Demeter rushes in and enfolds the Daughter. It is hard for us to see them through the salt of rain of our tears. The warmth of their union has heated and curved the straight line of lust into the circle of immortality. The horizons of freedom rise out of the wash of our eyes.

Mystai and pageant choruses and priests and priestesses bear the Holy Ones toward the Telesterion. It is impossible to convey such gladness. We hurl our torches like comets into the night.

The interior of the Telesterion is a dark forest of pillars. We take our places all along the walls of this awesome precinct: Demeter and Kore enter the Anaktoron, the Holy of Holies of this temple, along with their priests. The consummation of their union there conveys immortality to us.

Finally in a blaze of unearthly light, the Eumalpid reappears before us bearing the sacred objects. They are unspeakably simple!!! The long-awaited Hiera from before history! Our breath blocked by our very throats, we behold them, the tokens of death’s certain impregnation of life with everlasting joy.

We may say no more.

Weightless, we finally depart the Telesterion. Those who were initiated in previous years and who have returned to gain the highest degree of EPOPTEIA, complete vision, remain. Tonight they will undergo the preliminaries of the final, unutterable of unutterable revealings, which will they will receive tomorrow night, after we have completed our ceremonies. Some of resolve to return next year to receive the blessings of this 3rd degree.

The day after Boedromion 21st, we fasted again and prepared for the final night in the Telesterion. But this time with an ease and buoyancy we had never in our whole lives known before. We will not blight the holy happenings of that night with poverty of words.

On this the last day at Eleusis, we the initiated perform libations to the dead with whom we are now at peace, as with all nature. These rites are called PLEMOCHOAI, for from two vessels of this calling — placed on the ground facing east and west we decant potions into the earth.

Tomorrow we all depart from Eleusis, secure in life because we have death as its very preservation. Back along the Sacred Way we will return to our homes and fields.

In Athens, the day after our return, the Council of the Five Hundred will meet to review our conduct during the Sacred Proceedings.

Our eyes, having beheld nothing notable during the last night, were opened to all and everything. And though our mouths were agape with awe, our lips were sealed in reverence forever.

“Happy is he who, having seen these rites goes below the hollow earth; for he knows the end of life and knows its God-sent beginning.” ~ Pindar

In happier millennia of ancient Greece (approximately 1700 BC to 300 AD) a refined thread of sacral awareness flourished like a sisterhood of starry blossoms midst dry, stony fields of rising masculine consciousness. At Eleusis, in the mysteries of Demeter and her daughter Persephone, humanity unfolded perhaps its most tender and humane dream of life here and hereafter. Carl Kerenyi tells us that for Pagan Greeks “mystical” referred to the “atmospheric sensuous quality of a nocturnal feast”, and not, as in later mysticism, to man’s exit from the world (in which he as an individual is alone) to achieve union of his whole being with the universal One.

For the ancient Greek the mysteria, specific festivals in honor of gods and goddesses, celebrated the natural genesis of life out of darkness and that mysterious and ineffable quality of nature, called the Arreton. At Eleusis the mystai (uninitiated) entered into the darkness and experienced the unutterable as Arretos Koura, the Ineffable Maiden, the sacred open secret at the core of existence. Once more we must conjure up this affirmation of the natural world order through feminine images of deity – conjure it from our depths, and imbue it with new energy and contemporary form, if we are to save our planet and restore it to pristine beauty.

Several especially significant factors expressed in these Greek festivals must be considered in contrast with elements of patriarchal religion and its secular derivatives – such as modern science, materialism, utilitarianism, myopic pragmatism, etc, which have led us to our present exploitation and befouling of the earth. The religion of Eleusis worshiped the forces originating in earth, forces which suggested the darkness before birth and the darkness after death, as exemplified respectively by Demeter and Kore. In Christianity this rootedness in holy earth is implicitly denied; with the help of St. Paul the flesh is degraded and the primacy of an other-worldly heaven of eternal light affirmed. Similarly most Eastern religions dismiss this world as maya or mere illusion and encourage a search for Nirvana, the eternal light of the Void. The Mother and Daughter are abandoned, and with their abandonment our poor planet is thrown upon the mercy of ravagers and plunderers.

Paganism in general always affirmed the creative life force in terms of nature as encountered by humanity in the outside world and in our own immediate being; but only in a few instances has there been a realization of the transformative element of being as exemplified by the Filial Feminine. The experience of this transformative feminine element was elaborated in the cult of Eleusis. Persephone as Queen of the Dead and Bearer of Rebirth guaranteed personal immortality to the mystai who experienced her epiphany in the Telesterion (place of seeing) at Eleusis – a personal immortality rooted in the realm of Pluto, giver of earthly riches. Demeter and other mother goddesses guaranteed continuity of the life cycle, but it was up to Kore, the Holy Daughter, the Ineffable Maiden, to bestow eternal life upon the individual.

Christianity’s attempt to assure such immortality failed because it depended strictly on the male logos, on dogma, so that finally abstraction took the place of living experience, and authentic human living collapsed. The tendency toward abstraction was further promoted by the universalistic inclination of Christianity – anyone who believed could belong, anywhere at anytime. The Eleusinian cult, as well as other Pagan cults, were regional – their myths were based on local theomorphic manifestations, and the ecstasy they offered could only be experienced at a particular place and time.

In order to participate in the mysteria at Eleusis the celebrant had to speak Greek and be innocent of murder. They did not have to declare allegiance to any beliefs or promise to live in accordance with prescribed rules and regulations. There was no contractual agreement with the deities, no threat of eternal damnation for departure from a code, no admonishment to love this or that deity exclusively. The experience was given gratuitously, no strings attached. The reverse is true of Christian faiths. Other patriarchal religions also necessitate either living in accordance with “the law” or submitting to rigid self-restraint and self-denial, as in Buddhism.

What realizations for a new relationship to the world and the cosmos are implicit in these characteristics of the Eleusinian mysteries? First, the only approach to life that will restore the well-being of our damaged planet and prevent future abuse must be rooted in a sacred awe for the eternal mysteries of nature. Secular approaches and “solutions” are not sufficient to maintain eco-psychic balance between the body of mankind and the greater land-sky body of earth. Our daily life must be imbued with appropriate mythopoeic images that sustain and elaborate our ties with greater nature.

Abstract religious principles sever these connections with Mother Earth, and lead to denigration of the mysterious and the dark forces of the universe. Clarity and light have no meaning save as qualities contrasted with mystery and darkness. And since we have denied all things mysterious and dark, we must once again know and re-evaluate the experience of being encompassed by night and the subterranean – if we are to be made whole psychically.

This leads us to the mystery of death, and the need for a new variation of the Persephone myth. For the Aquarian Age the emphasis on a Daughter Goddess, rather than on a Great Mother, is of great importance for several reasons. First, the quest for personal immortality, already a poignant issue with the ancient Greeks, remains a pressing issue today; and the emergence of the Kore as feminine archetype of transformation was in response to that quest.

Second, the beliefs centered about the Great Mother were for the most part connected with the vegetation cults for which continuity of the group, not the individual, was primary. The Great Mother gives and takes impersonally, alternating archetypically between the Good Mother and the Terrible Mother. Her maternal womb/tomb makes demands upon her children – they do her bidding or else she may not bestow upon them the goods of earth. Insufficient knowledge of agricultural, horticultural and arboricultural methods in an unfavorable environment would throw a group of relatively simple people upon her mercy. But in a favorable clime, with growing awareness of the processes of food production and with subsequent inner psychic expansion and greater ability for sublimation (to make sublime – in terms of artistic enrichment and creation), a more delicate and loving image of the female emerges.

The Mother Goddess becomes more humane through her love for her daughter; the youthfully graceful and beauteous daughter evokes tender concerns from the Mother. When the Daughter is lost Demeter weeps – She cares (“care” is etymologically related to “Kore”). When the human community begins to care for the individual, we gain a soul that warrants eternal life. Even though we die, we are reborn. This empathy and care that arose in the human psyche was not extensive enough in the Greek world. With some notable exceptions, war, slavery, animal slaughter, and the like were condoned.

Today our very survival and that of the whole world depends on this ability to empathize being extended to include all forms of life and all land forms as well. The Divine Maiden, the Holy Daughter, carried this message: wilderness is sacred, the wild within as well as the wild without is sacred. Only a freed eros will care for the magnificence of nature.

Hence, the Magic Maiden restores beliefs in life as well as death. Today our polluted environment and our death-denying estranged psyche are expressions of the negation of the feminine in both its maternal and filial aspects. We have disturbed the birth-death cycle and the ecological balance of thousands of biomes throughout the globe in our anti-Mother campaign; our life and death have become meaningless and devoid of value because we have suppressed the transformative feminine urge for beauty and caring sensual fulfillment. Our senses sour as populations soar. We are bombarded by ugliness never before known on earth. The forces of repressed "Thanatos and Eros" combine to produce existential evil – a triumph of psychopathic cruelty, indifference, electro-mechanical sterility, and cybernetic nothingness.

A third important factor of the ancient mysteries that should characterize the coming religion is local or regional emphasis. But, as with all other qualities mentioned so far, a new aspect of regionalism must be evolved: the region that is to be a source of myth and inspiration is the landscape of that particular type known as a biome. Whereas ancient Paganism took nature for granted, the new Gaian consciousness will, with acute awareness and cognition, weave specific aspects of regional nature into its very fibre. On a basis of generalization alone no depth of feeling or rapport with life is possible. To love all life, all plants, all animals, is a sterile concept if taken by itself; in practice it will lead automatically to distortion unless it is rooted in the particular environmental surround of the individual and her/his social group. The feeling of unity with landscape and region in their varied pattern of biomes is very difficult to experience nowadays because of the experiential static produced by our urban environment; but the culture to come may forsake the city for an organically structured yet sophisticated orchard-centered existence. (editor's note: see Permaculture and Earthships for related ideas.)

Here are some visions of the ideal: Centralization will take place only on a small scale, as in the case of small gathering places for the exchange of hand-crafted goods and ideas. A somewhat greater degree of centralization will take place on the rare occasions of high sacred events and celebrations. These may occur in conglomerates of indoor and outdoor temples in the tradition of megalithic culture, but also in novel forms appropriate to the new life style.

Finally, empathy and erotic liaison with the immediate environment, and astrally with the greater environment, will create self-regulating communities in which current legal and political systems will have been outgrown. If difficulties arise, seeresses and seers will be consulted in ultimate recourse to clarify issues and recommend appropriate action. The faerie spirit, light and graceful, so much in keeping with the Kore quality, will permeate the entire social-cultural atmosphere. In this world we will approach Love and Death through the child-like nature of the Numinous Nymph, who promises fulfillment of youthful dreams in which the wild and the humane co-mingle to form Paradise – an organic living togetherness without bloodshed. This could be life’s impetus to evolve beyond predator control of excess population. Persephone promises us continuous rebirth if we work for the continuous rebirth of our planet.

]]>jocarsonvisualfx@earthlink.net (Jo)Life, Death, Rebirth in the Eleusinian MysteriesMon, 30 Sep 2013 20:02:05 +0000Persephone Changes the Worldshttp://feraferia.org/joomla/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=81:persephone-changes-the-worlds&catid=71:life-death-rebirth-in-the-eleusinian-mysteries&Itemid=61
http://feraferia.org/joomla/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=81:persephone-changes-the-worlds&catid=71:life-death-rebirth-in-the-eleusinian-mysteries&Itemid=61Here is a concept that Fred Adams put forth in his writings that you may find interesting:

Demeter & Persephone with grain

The Eleusinian Mysteries of ancient Greece (see below), which Fred always cited as the wellsprings of Feraferia, are centered around the myth of Demeter and Persephone, the Great Mother and her Daughter (also called Kore). It tells the story of Persephone being abducted by Pluto into his underworld domain. There, She became his bride and the Queen of the Dead. Demeter, in her grief and loss, no longer supported the growing green world, so all the crops failed.

The Olympian Gods became upset about no longer receiving sacrifices from the now starving populace, so they arranged a deal with Pluto to allow Persephone to return to Her Mother. However, since Pluto had convinced Persephone to eat 3 (the exact number is debated) pomegranate seeds while there, she was required to return to the underworld for that number of months each year. Thus, the seasons were established, since when Persephone goes below, the growth stops, and when She returns, the green world starts its cycle of growth once more. Of note, the pomegranate seed is nature's richest source of plant estrogen, which is certainly related to fertility in the human and animal world.

Demeter, in her gratitude over the return of her Daughter, went on to teach the mysteries of agriculture to Triptolemos, who spread that knowledge out to the world.

What is interesting in Fred's interpretation is that, while Demeter was able to secure rebirth for Kore Persephone, Persephone herself, because of her loving nature, forever changed the nature of the underworld, to allow all other humans to be reborn as well.

Thus reincarnation of us mortals was established. Blessed Be!

Demeter initiates Triptolemos into mysteries of grain growing, while Kore Persephone applies a bronze crown to his head (since removed).

The Plutonium, entrance to the underworld at Eleusis. Eleusis is about 14 miles west of Athens in Greece.